


Zero

by Kabella



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Band life, Boasting, Cover Bands, Curiosity, Fluff, I hear you, I'm going to kill you, Let us be, M/M, Mars, Nerves, Private Dick, So that's why, bassists are assholes, disorderly person, everybody loves the drummer, how can you not know this stuff, phone books, stfu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24559366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabella/pseuds/Kabella
Summary: Oh shit. Mick knows what Tommy and Nikki are up to. Not good. No one likes when Mick is pissed. Good thing that Vince actually listens sometimes. He's figured out somewhat of a secret, and shares it with the Terror Twins. Nikki, embracing this news, thinks he can help. Time to play detective so Mick can stop being pissed.
Relationships: Tommy Lee/Nikki Sixx
Comments: 16
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok. So I felt like posting this story today, since yesterday's story was so depressing.
> 
> If you catch me on Wattpad, this is one story from my most recent book. I've posted a few chapters from the book here already. This one is, for whatever reason, I think my second favorite; Chapter 69 being my #1. I just really like the way this one came out.
> 
> It's Terrorcest, but the main character in this one is actually Mick. And no, Mick does not involve himself with anyone from the band. 
> 
> It's just a fun feel-good piece of fluff, to counter balance the dark stories I've been posting. The next one in that series coming tomorrow. 
> 
> **Little back story, because I'm not going to include the first 3 chapters.
> 
> This is 1988, post rehab. The band decided to relocate to Vancouver, BC to start production on their next album. Nikki's plan for the living arrangements are 2 apartments not far from the studio. One unit for him and Tommy (so they can carry on with their secret relationship), and the other for Vince and Mick. 
> 
> Pretty much, as soon as they arrive, Nikki pushes Tommy into their apartment, telling Vince and Mick to scram, throwing the keys to their own apartment at them, and slamming the door shut. Nikki shuttles Tommy to the first bedroom he sees and tears their clothes off to get busy. He couldn't wait any longer. Only thing is, he forgot to lock the front door. 
> 
> Not having each other's phone numbers yet, Mick goes over to T & N's apartment to get their phone # and to leave Nikki a message from their producer. He finds the door unlocked and let's himself in....

Mick steps into the apartment, noticing suitcases and shoes in the middle of the floor. One bedroom door is open. He looks inside and doesn't see either one. He turns to face the other and hears noises from behind the door. Mick is horrified when he determines that what he hears is unmistakably of a sexual nature. He stands there for a moment, covering his ears, to figure out whether he should leave or confront them now. 

Both he and Vince have suspected something was going on between them, but it's another thing to actually have it confirmed. He's seen enough sick and raunchy things in his life to not be completely shocked by it, but it's still very uncomfortable. These are 2 of his best friends. Next thing Mick knows, he's pounding on the bedroom door. He's not even sure why. Maybe he just wants it to stop.

"Hey motherfuckers, I can fucking hear you."

Tommy and Nikki are mortified, and frozen in fear. "Oh my god. What do we do?" Nikki whispers. 

"Is the bedroom door locked?" Tommy asks, quietly. 

Nikki shrugs.

"Listen up, assholes. I know what you're doing in there. I'm not going to open the door. It's the last thing that I would ever want my eyes to see. But believe me, this will be discussed. And Nikki, you need to call Bob. I'll leave his number on the counter."

"Fuck him. Let's finish," Tommy pleads.

"Tom, he knows. I'm not OK with that."

"Nothing we can do about that now. Please, let's finish. We'll figure this out."

"Uh, thanks Mick! I'll call," Nikki yells out.

"OK. Um, later I guess," Mick says, leaving, holding his head in his hand. That was the most awkward fucking conversation ever. What the fuck? He leaves.

"Tommy, fuck! What are we going to do?" Nikki says, still whispering.

Tommy puts his finger up to Nikki's mouth to shush him, then continues fucking him.

"Tom, this is weird."

"Nikki, stop. Just look at me. You like the way I feel?"

Nikki nods.

"Then shut the fuck up."

\------------------------------------------

Mick comes back to his apartment, slamming the door. 

"Are you going to fucking come in like that every time?" Vince snaps.


	2. Chapter 2

"No! Only when I catch our two other band mates fucking each other!" Mick blares.

"What!!!" Vince screeches. "Who was the bottom?!"

"Never mind! Go fuck yourself! I have to unpack," Mick barks, walking off to his bedroom.

"Mick you can't say that, and just walk away! What the hell did you see!"

"I didn't see anything, thank god! Just heard them! They now know that I know! I swear, if they fuck anything up, I will snap both of their necks."

"What'd you hear?"

"What the hell question is that, dumbass?! Ooh, aah... what the fuck else do you want me to say?!"

"I'm just asking because maybe they were doing something else."

"Not a chance," Mick says, retreating to his bedroom, slamming the door.

Vince has a sly grin on his face. He has ideas. He goes to his bedroom, and unpacks his stuff quickly. He'll decorate later. He'll probably need to go shopping for some finishing touches. Vince always wants his room to look nice for the ladies.

He knocks on Mick's door, "Hey Mick, I'm going out to the store."

"Don't be late for our dinner, asshole," Mick shouts back.

"Can you take it down a notch? You don't have to be a dick ever second of the day," Vince admonishes.

"With you three, yes I do. And you better not be bringing trash into your room every night either. I don't want to hear your damn sex antics either."

"Well, maybe one of us should talk to Doc tonight about getting a separate place. This already sucks, and it's only been an hour."

"Be my guest. I'll back you up on that."

"Alright, later. I'll be back."

"Fuck away!"

Vince isn't actually going to the store, he's going over to the other apartment. He gets to the door and knocks.

"Fuck! Who's here,"Nikki says, back in his clothes by now.

"Stand back, I'll find out," Tommy says, peering through the peephole. "It's Vince," Tommy says, turning around to look at Nikki.

"What the hell does he want? Do you think Mick told him?"

"How the hell should I know?"

"Open up the door, assholes. I know you're there."

**Tommy opens the door, and Vince let's himself in.**

"Well, well, well," Vince says, smirking.

"What the hell do you want," Nikki growls.

"So I come to find out that the reason I'm stuck with hell's gatekeeper, is so you two can build a little love nest here," Vince smiles wide.

"It's not your damn business," Tommy snaps.

"Oh but it is. We're in the band together. This is potentially damaging, you know."

"The only thing in danger of being damaged is you," Nikki threatens, clenching his fists.

"What are you going to do, Nikki?"

"What is your point?" Nikki asks.

"I don't exactly know. It's empowering to actually know that what I always thought was true is actually true."

"You know what, Vin. I think you're here, because now that you know, you're jealous. What the fuck else do you want? I don't fucking care that you know. It doesn't bother me," Tommy reveals.

"Not so. I just want you two to know that I can have you eating out of my hand," Vince states.

"How so?" Tommy challenges.

"I'm sure you don't want others knowing, especially your wife, right?"

"Listen douchebag, if you're that low to expose us, you don't belong. You will single-handedly destroy the band, and you fucking know it. You're not planning on telling anyone. So tell me, why are you fucking here? Who is it that you want? Or are you just a perv that wants to get off by watching us?" Tommy says.

Vince is at a loss. He's not going to tell anyone else. He knows that the info can't get out, and the truth is, he has been fascinated with his two band mates together. He doesn't quite understand why. Now he doesn't know how to proceed. Fuck! Things backfired. He didn't really lay out his plan well. He really didn't have a plan, he was just interested in getting the dirt.

"OK, if you want to know why I stopped by. I just want to know who bottoms, that's all," Vince says, pursing his lips, trying not to show any other emotion on his face, as if this were a normal question for friends to ask each other.

**Tommy starts laughing. Nikki is feeling guarded still, and glares hard at Tommy.**

"Who bottoms in your fantasy?" Tommy dares to ask.

"It's not a fantasy, dipshit. It's just when you already think that something is going on, it crosses your mind."

"Do you want to watch us?" Tommy asks.

"Tom!" Nikki blasts.

Tommy shrugs his way, with a smirk.

"Tom, stop," Nikki demands.

Tommy ignores him, "So do you want to watch?"

"I think Nikki is going to knock your head off," Vince replies.

"Come here," Tommy says, grabbing Nikki by the bicep to lead him to the bedroom, shutting the door.

"T, what the fuck?" Nikki whispers, in an angry tone.

"Relax, love. I'm just fucking with him."

"I'm not comfortable with this."

"Nik, the more you squirm, the more he gets off. You gotta act like you don't care. It's obvious to me at this point that he's into it."

"So what. We've always said that."

"It's just fun watching him get hot and bothered."

"I don't like using what we have together as a vehicle for amusement. If it were just sex, fine. But this is our love life, and that's a private matter."

"You're right. I'm sorry, love."

Nikki embraces Tommy, "It's the kid in you that can't help but play these juvenile games."

"I guess so," Tommy says, kissing Nikki on the lips. "But, you also know what I've always fantasized about."

"Are you kidding me? With him?"

"Why not? He's not going to tell. It's just to get me off."

"I'm not into sharing, T," Nikki says, bringing Tommy back in for an embrace. "You're mine."

"And you're mine, but I still want it, love," Tommy says, grabbing Nikki's ass tightly.

In the meantime, while Tommy and Nikki are in the bedroom, Vince isn't sure whether he should stay, or get the hell out of there. He's very embarrassed now, and extremely uncomfortable. They're supposed to be the ones feeling uncomfortable and embarrassed, not Vince. How'd the tables turn on him.


	3. Chapter 3

Nikki and Tommy emerge from the bedroom. Vince picks his head up, and decides to just play things off cool.

"I assume you got things straightened out. Uh, so I guess I better be going. I'm sure that you guys know about dinner tonight? The limo is coming at 7:40?" Vince says, getting up to walk towards the door.

"Hey Vince?" Nikki calls out.

Vince stops, and spins around.

"This doesn't need to be weird, OK? Nothing's really changed. Don't be fucking aloof."

"Listen, I don't really care what you guys do. Nothing really shocks me. We lead abnormal lives Whatever. But, it is weird. I'm not going to lie. But, I'm not going to act weird. I am going to tell you this though. You two can play house here, but I'm not living with Mick, especially now that I know the basis for this set-up. Love you guys. Love Mick, but I don't want to live with any of you motherfuckers. I'm getting my own place."

"Fine. Talk to management. I'm not going to stop you. We'll see you later."

**Vince leaves.**

"Shit, Tommy," Nikki says, flopping down on the couch. "The day wasn't supposed to go like this."

"Nik, who cares. They were bound to find out at some point. It's done now. We can get back to normal."

"I doubt it," Nikki says.

"Why?" Tommy asks.

"Vince is going to be weird, and I can't even imagine what Mick is going to do. When he gets a bee in his bonnet, things get bad."

"Well, what choice do we have other than to ride the waves at this point."

"I don't know, Tom."

Tommy goes over to Nikki, picking up his legs, so he can sit, placing them across his lap once he does sit. He strokes Nikki's thigh. "Come on, Nikki. Get that FTW attitude back. If anyone makes this weird, it's going to be you; unless you get a grip."

"I know. It's just the whole gay thing. I'm not gay."

"Nikki, who cares. It's a fucking label, and you and I know that labels don't work for us. Besides, whether you like it or not, what we do is gay. You've even said that."

"No, it's bi."

"Hey dummy, bi means liking the opposite sex and the same sex. In other words straight and gay."

Nikki gives him a scowl, "Don't try to school me."

"I just think that you need to accept who you are, or what we are."

"I do, but no one else is supposed to know."

"Well now two others do, so find a way to get over that. I mean, what does it make you something less. Does it scar your image? Those two guys know us better than anyone else, and now there's something new for them to know. I for one, am proud to say I do stuff with you. Why would I be embarrassed? Your fucking hot Nikki. I mean who doesn't want to be with you. And I get to be."

"I know what you're trying to say. It's just not that simple for me."

"It will get easier, love. I promise." Tommy leans over to kiss Nikki, positioning his body to lay on top of his. Within minutes, they're engaged in sex again on the living room floor.

\-----------------------------------

**The limo arrives to bring the band to dinner~**

"Dammit, Tommy. How am I supposed to get into that fucking limo with them?" Nikki snaps.

"Same way that I'm going to. Come on, Sixx. We're resolved with Vince for the most part. We just gotta deal with Mick, and chances are he won't get into it on the ride there," Tommy says.

"Let's go," Nikki sighs.

Tommy and Nikki get in the limo, seeing that Vince and Mick are already there. There's an awkward silence for about 15 seconds, then Tommy breaks it.

"Hey guys. You hungry?"

"Yup, you?" Vince asks.

"Yeah. When am I not?"

"Nikki?" Vince asks.

"What?" Nikki says, startled from his inner thoughts.

"Are you hungry?"

"Why are you asking me that?"

"Because we're on our way to a fucking restaurant. Is that so strange?" Vince snaps.

"No, you're fucking just making stupid small talk, and it's pissing me off," Nikki blares.

"Should I not talk?"

"Why don't you just say it already. Bring up the gorilla in the limo!"

"Say what? What do you want me to say?" Vince barks.

"Everybody shut the fuck up!" Mick hollers.

"What, you don't want to talk, Mick? You're the one that said you're bringing it up later, so fucking bring it up!" Nikki challenges.

"Nik, relax," Tommy says, softly.

"Later, Nikki," Mick says, calmly.

"Oh yeah? How do you like this?" Nikki says, throwing his arm around Tommy's shoulder, with a little bit of the devil's grin on his face.

"I said, later! We got a fucking driver in here, asshole."

Nikki turns around to look, seemingly forgetting that. He doesn't move his arm from Tommy's shoulder, finding that would be an act of backing down. He figures that it's not so odd to have an arm around any one of these guys in front of someone else anyway. Why would the driver find it odd? He wouldn't. Nikki just keeps his mouth shut for the rest of the ride. Everybody does.

\----------------------

**8pm at the local Irish Pub, Bangers with Doc and Bob ~**

Dinner was relatively calm and productive. A few growls and snide remarks were thrown about, but that's actually typical for the band. They're going to start in the studio, on Monday, in three days.

Once the meeting is over, Mick mentions to Doc that he and Vince want separate living quarters. Doc looks at Nikki, who shrugs and throws his hand out as a gesture to say go ahead.

"Well, OK. It would have been easier to set this up prior. But we'll see what we can get in the same complex," Doc sighs, annoyed by the developing situation.

"If not, find me a place on the waterfront. That will make me happy," Vince chimes in with a smirk.

"Nikki?' Doc asks.

"I don't give a shit," Nikki replies.

"OK, then," Doc says, getting up from the table.

The band chats a little bit about the album on the way back. They sound normal for almost a hot minute, until they pull into the apartment complex, and Mick tells Tommy and Nikki that he's coming in with them. Nikki's on edge as he puts the key in the doorknob.

"Vince, shoo, go home," Micks says, flicking his hands towards him, as Vince stands behind.

"Fuck you," Vince says, stomping off.

Nikki gets the door open, and they all go in. Tommy flicks the lights on.

"You two idiots, sit!" Mick demands.

"Alright, say it, Mick," Nikki invites the confrontation to be brought on.

"I'm going to start by telling you that I don't like one bit what you're doing."

"And?" Tommy says.

"And, I think that you're going to fuck things up with the band. I've seen this same shit happen in one of my former bands. We wound up fucking breaking up because two fools got involved with each other. Then one got married to a girl, and it fucked things up between them. It just put a wedge between everyone."

"Well, I'm already fucking married, and have been."

"Well, he's not!" Mick says, pointing to Nikki.

"Thanks for reminding me of that, douche," Nikki snaps.

"Seriously, what the hell are you two doing?! What because it feels good? You risk everything for a feeling?"

"You know, Mick. You don't know shit about us. Fuck you." Nikki yells.

"Yeah well, I already told Doc to move me and Vince apart. I'm putting in a request for the two of you too."

"What the hell is that going to do, tool?" We can just go over to each other's place. You need to just fucking relax. Nothing's changed from what's been going on for the past several months, besides the fact that you now know. So, fucking get a grip, and lay off," Tommy replies.

"I just don't like this, and I'm letting you know."

"Mick, if anyone puts a wedge between the band, it's going to be you. Nikki and I are good, and Vince is good too. You're the odd man out here," Tommy says. "You don't like what makes you feel uncomfortable,"

"No, I don't like things that break bands apart," Mick spits.

"Says, the guy who's the only one working against the band majority," Nikki says, finally speaking up again.

"Am not."

"Right. Let me tell you this, and then I'm done. I rarely share my fucking emotions with anyone, so count yourself in the elite. Tommy is the one that keeps me sane and grounded. I can count the people who actually give a shit about me on one hand, and I thought you were one of them. If you still give any shits about me, you'll leave us be. I swear, I'd be dead, in jail, back on drugs, or institutionalized if Tommy wasn't part of my life. So accept it, or fuck off!" Nikki emotes, storming off and slamming his bedroom door behind him.

Tommy and Mick just stand and stare at each other for a few seconds, then Tommy walks away too, to go be with Nikki.

\------------------------------------

**Mick leaves.~**

"Nikki are you OK?" Tommy asks upon entering the room.

Nikki nods. He's sitting crossed on his bed, propping his head up with one hand.

"Nik?" Tommy says, sliding up next to Nikki, embracing him from the side.

Nikki puts his hand up to hold Tommy's arm that's wrapped around his front. "He doesn't fucking know shit. And it's not about sex," Nikki sniffles, trying to keep tears back.

"Don't be upset, love," I'm not going anywhere." Tommy reassures Nikki.

"I know. I'm not worried. I just don't like being judged on something that no one understands."

"I'm going to lock the door, grab some snacks and something to drink, and we're going to just spend the night in here. Maybe a movie, maybe TV, maybe something else. Love you, Nikki," Tommy says, kissing his cheek. "By the way, that was hot when you threw your arm around me in the car."

"I don't even know why I did that, T. I was just puffing, I guess."

"Well, for the situation at hand, it was a bold move, and it turned me on. Thank god no one looked at my pants."

Nikki turns toward Tommy to look at him with a sly smile, then connects with his lips. He pulls away, "T, go lock the fucking door now."

\----------------------------

**Mick goes storming back to his own apartment and slams the door.**

"There's that fucking slam again! Dammit, Mick! That's annoying!"

"You're annoying," Mick growls.

"Your face is annoying."

"Your mom is annoying!"

"Your mom's face is annoying, and leave my mom out of it. She's one of our biggest supporters," Vince snaps.

"Sorry, Vin."

"Wait, what's that? Was that a fucking apology? Well, holy shit. It must be snowing in the pit of hell."

"Fuck off, Vince. I'm not in the mood," Mick huffs.

"What happened?"

"I said to fuck off," Mick spits.

"I'm not asking to be nosy. I'm just asking as your friend, and as a member of this band."

"I don't know. I just have stuff to think about."

Vince feels a pang, "Like what? Is everything OK? You're not thinking of leaving or something crazy like that. Or them?"

"No. I'm not leaving. I just don't know how to accept their relationship. It's going to take time, or maybe I never will. I don't know."

"Come on, Mick. Who cares. Yeah, it's fucking weird, but it's Nikki and Tommy. They pretty function as one unit. A stupid, fucked-up unit, but it's not really anything different than what we've suspected for a long time."

"Because this type of thing leads to stuff getting fucked up! This is all I have right now. I'm too old to start on another venture!"

"Why are you so sure things will get fucked up?"

"Because, I told you that I was in a band that was gaining some traction. Then two of the band members started up with each other. Things were fine until one of them decided to get married. The other couldn't handle it and freaked out, and things just went really bad from there," Mick says, gesturing with his hands all over the place.

"That's funny, Mick. Because one time you told me that your band broke up because you got married since you had gotten your girl pregnant. YOU got married. And the band broke up shortly after that due to infighting. You mentioned nothing about band members shacking up, but now I can put two and two together. Same band, same story told two different way."

"No you can't because you failed math in school!" Mick says, booking towards his room.

"Hey! Come back here motherfucker. I can still add! And it was you! You're one of the band members that fucked things up! You were in a relationship!" Vince hollers, chasing after Mick, who slams the door in his face.

"Come on, Mick. Open the fucking door!" Vince shouts, pounding on it.

A minute later, Mick's guitar is all that can be heard in the apartment, probably the whole complex. It's plugged in, and turned up to the max.

It's been 30 minutes. Vince tries to occupy himself with other things, but finally can't take the screeching guitar anymore. He goes over to the other apartment, and bangs on the door.

**Nikki and Tommy are lying on Nikki's bed, in front of the TV, having just finished a love-making session.**

"Fuck! You hear that?" Nikki asks Tommy.

"You gotta be kidding me. I'll get it."

"No, fuck that," Nikki asserts, securing his arm around Tommy.

The knocking continues. And Tommy catches a flash of light through the window, which he believes to be the lights of an emergency vehicle.

"Let me just see who it is," Tommy insists. "I just saw flashing lights."

Nikki sighs, "If it's Tweedle Dick or Tweedle Douche, don't answer it. Just come back, please."

Tommy comes to the door and looks through the peephole to see Vince. Despite Nikki's request, Tommy opens the door, concerned something is wrong.

"It's about time, asshole," Vince snaps when Tommy opens the door.

"Is something wrong?" Tommy says, gesturing with his hand towards the flashing lights, which are bouncing off reflective surfaces, not in his direct view.

"That?" Vince asks, pointing in the direction of their apartment. "That's probably Mick getting served with a noise complaint. He's blaring his fucking guitar. I know it's pissing people off," he says, letting himself in, shutting the front door.

"Why? That's not like Mick. That's something we would do."

"Shit man, can you get Nikki out here?"

"Why?"

"Can you just get him? I'm not here to bust on you. I just think that you both should know something."

"I'll see what I can do, " Tommy says, walking towards the bedroom.

"Just fucking get him, or I'm going in there!"

Nikki, hearing yelling in the living room is getting pissed off, and is already putting on cut-off sweatpants to go see what the fuck is going on.

**Tommy pushes the bedroom door open just in time to meet Nikki face to face.**

"What the hell is he yelling about?" Nikki snaps, stepping past Tommy. "What the fuck do you want," he says charging towards Vince.

"Settle down, Nik. I just wanted to tell you guys something," Vince says, in a normal tone.

"I'm not in the mood. It's fucking late. If you want to have it out tomorrow, fine. But I'd appreciate it if you'd fuck off right now."

"It's not about you two, it's about Mick."

"What? He wants to leave?" Is that fucking it?" Nikki says, still annoyed.

"No, he doesn't want to leave. Look, I don't know what he said to you when we got back from dinner, but he came storming back into the apartment, still bitching. I was trying to calm him down, and he's going on about that stupid fucking band of his that broken up in the past--"

Tommy interrupts, "The one with the two guys who got involved, and they broke up when one got married. Yeah, yeah, we heard it. We got the lecture. It doesn't mean shit."

"Yeah, but here's the thing. He told me that fucking story like, I don't know, maybe a year ago, but he never mention anything about two band members hooking up. He said it was because he got married; trying to do the right thing because he got a girl pregnant."

"So?" Nikki asks.

"Click those two stories together, morons. Where do they link up?"

Nikki takes a few seconds to think, then his crooked grin spreads across his face, "That little shit."

"What, Nik? I don't get it?"

Nikki puts his hands on Tommy's shoulders, "Tom, he's the one who got married and broke up the band according to one story. And in the other story, the one who got married, was also one of the two guys who were involved with each other. So what's that tell you?"

Tommy's brain is cranking; maybe it's just too late at night. He's still lost.

"Dipshit! Mick was in a gay relationship in one of his old bands. He was one of those guys. When he got married, things got fucked up between them? Get it?"

"Ohh. I got it," Tommy fake laughs, feeling stupid it took him so long to understand.

"Tom, he's basing what we have on something he experienced in his past, which ended badly. That's why he's being such a dick."

"And he won't talk to me," Vince states. "He drowned me out by playing his guitar full blast. Which by the way Nik, is probably why the police are here. Hopefully, he doesn't snap and get his ass arrested."

"Let me go over there," Nikki says. "I gotta throw a shirt on."

"Don't get yourself arrested," Tommy shouts out.

Nikki throws his arms up, as he walks towards his room, "Why would I? I'll let the police handle that. I'm just going over to talk. He'll talk to me."

"What are you, the dickwad whisperer?" Vince asks.

"Yep. Be back," Nikki says, walking out.

\------------------------------

**Nikki leaves ~**

Vince walks over, and flops himself on the couch. He's reveling in the fact that he's left with the less cranky of the two. "So T-Bone are you going to answer my inquiry from before?"

"What inquiry?"

"First thing I asked you, who's the bottom?"

"Why the hell do you even want to know?"

"I just do."

"What the fuck? I don't ask questions about your sex life."

"What do you want to know?"

"Nothing. I don't want to know anything."

"Go ahead and ask. Now's your chance. You all know I'm the most promiscuous in this band. There's gotta be something that you want to know. Ask away?" Vince encourages.

"You know Vince. It's not like I sit around and ponder your messy sex life. I don't give a shit, but since you're being persistent, here you go, for shits and giggles. Have you ever been with a guy? Have you ever had a dildo shoved up your ass? Have you ever been snowballed? How many girls at once have you been in bed with at the same time? Do you like being spanked? Heh, heh. Answers those, douche."

"No problem, No, yes, yes, 5 or 6, and yes. What else?"

"Do you want to be with a guy?'

"Depends who, and only in the sense of curiosity. Not really my thing, but I'm open when it comes to sexual exploration."

"OK, fair enough," Tommy shrugs, turning the TV on.

"So tell me what I want to know?"

"Nikki wants to keep things private."

"Nikki's not fucking here, and he's on his way over to talk to Mick to swap dick stories over coffee and donuts."

That makes Tommy laugh. "We switch up, but Nikki prefers when I'm top. OK? Is that what you want to know to fill in the gaps of your little personal fantasy."

"OK. Thanks. Does your wife know?"

"Hell no," Tommy affirms. "I make it work. I love my wife."

"I don't doubt that. I love my fiance, and you all know what I do."

"I know. It's different though because it not just sex with Nikki. There's feelings."

"Is he gay?"

"For me. But he wants to get married and have a family some day."

"OK. I'm good. What's on the fucking TV? Got anything to eat or drink?"

Tommy just smirks and shakes his head at Vince's oddball, mellow demeanor, as he gets up to rummage through the kitchen cabinets, glad that the inquisition is over. Maybe they can get back to normal now.

"You should have brought the fucking donuts over here."

\------------------------------------

 **Nikki leaves, and walks over to the other apartment. Once he rounds the corner, he can see that the cops are there. As he approaches, a cop asks if he lives there, and tells him that it's a private matter**.

"No. I live right over there, but we're in a band together," Nikki responds.

"Some sort of famous band? That's what my partner said."

"Yeah, we're well-known. I just wanted to see if I could help my friend calm down."

"What's your name?"

"Nikki."

"Please wait here, sir," the officer says, stepping inside to talk to his partner.

The officer comes back out, and tells Nikki that he can come in.

"Mick, everything OK?" Nikki asks, seeing the other officer eyeballing him.

"Couldn't be better, but this fool is threatening to confiscate my guitar," Mick says.

"There's only one fool here," Nikki says to Mick. "Officer, what's the issue now, since he's stopped playing?"

"He wouldn't stop playing until I physically took the guitar away, and now he's being disorderly by demanding it back," the officer reveals.

"Mick, they're going to take the fucking guitar. We can get it tomorrow."

"Fuck you, Nikki. That's my favorite one."

"And you'll get it the fuck back! Get a fucking grip!" Nikki snaps. "I think we'll be fine, officer. Thank you," Nikki says, turning towards him.

"Mr. Mars, you can come down to the station tomorrow to pay the fine for disturbing the peace, and then you can get your guitar back. Also you have a firm warning for the disorderly person charge. If we have to come back, you'll be charged. And if I can just have your signature on this paper, we'll be out of your hair," the officer says, handing a notepad to Mick.

"What am I signing this for? It's a blank page." Mick asks.

"Well, see it's not official business. If you could just sign that please, then we can leave."

"What the fuck?" Mick says.

"Just sign the fucking page, Mick! He wants your damn autograph!" Nikki shrieks.

"Uh, you too, Mr. Sixx, if you wouldn't mind, sir."

"Sure," Nikki says, taking the pad from Mick.

"Thank you gentleman. I hope that we don't need to come back," the officer says, leaving with his partner, who's still near the door.

"We're good. Thank you. We'll be down tomorrow for the fine and the guitar."

As they're leaving, shutting the door, they hear the officer freaking out, prematurely, as they're not out of earshot, to his partner that he's holding Mick Mars' guitar.

  
"So that was fun. Wasn't it?" Nikki says.

"Fuck off, Nikki. What are you doing here? Vince running his fucking mouth?"

"Yeah, just like you did to him about me and Tommy. Look, I just want to talk."

"If you think that I'm going to sit on your knee, and have a heart to heart, you're mistaken," Mick asserts.

"OK, I'll sit on your knee, and you be the wise old man teaching the youngen," Nikki jokes.

"I'm not in the mood to have my leg amputated from losing circulation from your fat ass crushing the life out of it."

"Mick, come on. Jokes aside, you and I can talk like two grown adults. The other two juvenile wise asses aren't here to interject," Nikki says, taking a seat on the couch.

"What do you want to say, Nikki?" Mick throws his arms out, like an invitation for Nikki to lay in on him.

"I sense that you still have some raw emotions about your past, like it meant something to you. What Tommy and I have, means something to us. Your band broke up because you were pulled apart from each other, not because you were together. Don't pull us apart, Mick, unless you want me to become a gumpy, bitter fuck like you. This band survives, partially because of our friendships. Tommy and I have been close since day one, since before you were even there. Even though the physical relationship just started more recently, we've been tight as fuck since the onset. Nothing has really changed, as far as I'm concerned."

"Nothing was supposed to change between me and Rod either, but--"

"Rod? Really?" Nikki snickers.

"Yes! Rod! Shut the fuck up Nikki!"

"I'm sorry," Nikki says, biting his bottom lip so he doesn't continue to laugh.

"Anyway, as I was saying, nothing was supposed to change, but for some reason that motherfucker couldn't handle my marriage. I swore that it wouldn't change anything between us be he let it. It was him. What's going to happen when you find someone, Nikki?"

"I can't tell the future, but we already deal with one wife. I think we can manage a second."

"You deal with his wife. You don't know yet if he can deal with yours."

"I do know because he's different from me. He doesn't let stuff bother him the way I do. And if I can manage with him being with Heather, then I know he can manage the same with me. It won't change us. Tommy knows I want a family."

"Then tell me how you felt the day he got married."

"I felt happy for him. We weren't together back then," Nikki says, furrowing his brow.

"You've been tight from day one though. Tell me how you really felt."

Nikki pauses because he's never really pondered this. He thinks he knows somewhere deep inside that he was crushed, but he's never acknowledged even the possibility of that.

"Your best friend had a new best friend."

That makes Nikki feel a pang inside. He sighs. "You know Mick, Tommy is always trying to extract from me, exactly when I began to have feelings for him. I tell him time and time again, I didn't have any until the day he made a move on me. He tells me that's a bullshit answer. I don't know how else to answer him because I never acknowledged any feelings prior to that. I was so fucked up, every damn day on drugs, that my brain was misfiring in every direction. I just never paid any attention to half the stuff in my brain, especially if it had to do with feelings. Most days were a blur. Now that I'm sober and more in tune with my emotions, I can figure some things out to better myself. But when I stand back and try to view my past it just looks like a giant tornado, throwing debris out all over the place. I can't make sense of any of it, because I wasn't there in sound mind. Yet, if I'm forced to think about what you just asked me, something was off within me that day, apart from the drugs. Something was eating at me. I wouldn't have been able to figure it out at that time, but I know what it was now." Nikki turns his eyes downward, not able to look at Mick.  
"So maybe you should be talking to Tommy, you two could relate to each other. And I should be talking to your former love."

"I haven't talked to him in about 15 years, and there's nothing former about the love I feel. The undoing was all his doing, not mine. I still have some feelings. But, I'm glad I have my Emi. She's really the best thing that happened to me. And it's funny. She and I have a relationship that you didn't approve of and tried to break up."

"I'm sorry, Mick. On all accounts."

"It's fine. And I compartmentalize my past. I like where I am now. Besides, if that band stayed together, who knows, I might not be here in Motley Crue."

"You still would been here. The four of us were drawn together. Meant to be," Nikki says, slapping Mick's shoulder. "Rod would know you made it big then. He can see you. You know, like magazines, TV, concerts."

"I know. It gives me some satisfaction. I'm good Nikki, but it took a while, and I guess there will always be something there."

"Then stop riding on me and Tommy. Mick, I love him. And that's hard for me to say. I can barely tell him on some days, but he knows. He knows all my ways, and loves me despite them. Please don't make us choose. I've never been loved before until now, and it makes me a better person. We're not you."

Mick sits in silence for a few minutes. Nikki is getting annoyed, and wants answers. He's ready to start ranting again, but decides to lay off. Mick is obviously conflicted. He's thinking.

"Mick?"

"Hmmm?" Mick replies.

"Are you still there?"

"Just thinking?"

"Want me to help you find him?" Nikki asks.


	4. Chapter 4

"What did you say there, Nikki?" Mick asks.

"Are you already in need of a hearing aid? I think you heard me. I asked if you want me to help you find him."

"I don't know. I guess I've thought about it, but I've never actually considered trying. I'm not sure it's a good idea."

"It's up to you. I'll help. I think I can play Sherlock Holmes and track that motherfucker down," Nikki revels, putting his hand to his chin, like he's getting paid to think.

"Well, maybe I can be your Watson."

"So is that a yes?"

"I think so. Let me sleep on it."

"OK. Just let me know. And hey, are we good. Mick?"

"I guess. Do your thing. Just don't do your thing around me. And don't fuck up. And don't say you were never warned."

"Thanks. That means a lot. Anything else?"

"Yeah, don't send Vince back here. Please."

"Can't help you there, buddy," Nikki says, walking towards the door.

"Then fuck off," Mick says, throwing his hand up.

"Goodnight, Mick."

**Nikki walks back to his own apartment.**

"OK, out Vin!' Nikki blares, as he enters his apartment.

"Me and your boy were just getting comfortable," Vince smirks.

"Out!" Nikki repeats, charging towards Vince.

"Hey, relax asshole. I'm leaving," Vince says, putting his hands up as a defense shield. " What did you say to my roommate, by the way? What am I going to walk into?"

"It's good. Leave him alone. You tend to stir up shit, so just keep your fucking mouth shut about it, OK?"

"Did he share his secrets with you?" Vince sneers.

"FUCK OFF, and get out!"

"OK. Fine, be a prick. I share info with you, just thought you might return the favor. This was my find!"

"This isn't a gossip circle. It ends here. Good night. BYE!"

"Alright. Goodnight. Enjoy your bottom treat tonight," Vince says, with a sly smile as he leaves.

Nikki glares at Tommy, "What the fuck did you tell him?"

"About what?" Tommy says, pretending he doesn't know what Vince meant by that.

"Why did Vince say that? You told him something about me."

"Come on, Nikki. He manipulates me, and you're the one who left us alone."

"I told you not to be telling him our business!"

"Sorry, love. I couldn't help it. I finally get to talk to someone about what I do with you. It's a fucking turn on, man."

"If I wasn't as horny as fuck right now, I tell you to go fuck yourself, and then put myself to bed, alone."

"If you do that, I can't give you your bottom treat," Tommy shrugs, with a coy look on his face.

"I hate you sometimes. Don't tell him anything else, OK? Now come on, follow me back to my bedroom. I've been a good boy, and want my treat," Nikki resolves, walking towards his bedroom, after deadbolting the front door.

\------------------------

**Late morning the next day~**

Nikki wakes up and stretches. He looks over at Tommy, who's still sleeping. He pulls the blanket up on the drummer. Any given morning, it's typically, anywhere other than on Tommy's body. He moves around a lot in his sleep, and almost always throws the covers off at some point. Nikki has learned to salvage at least one part of the bed covers for himself, whether it's the sheet, blanket, or comforter. His body tends to respond automatically now to the feeling of the covers being pulled off of him, and he's become skilled at grabbing at least a portion of them back before Tommy rips them clear off.

Nikki leaves him, asleep, and goes out to the living room to make a phone call to Mick. He answers, and Nikki asks him if he's thought about his sleuthing proposal from last night.

"I don't know, Nik. I kind of thought about it all night. I'm intrigued. So much so, that I couldn't really sleep at all."

"Up masturbating?"

"Oh my god! What the hell?!"

"It's a legit question, man."

"Never mind!"

"Alright, Mick," Nikki snickers. "Um, so that aside, what do you think?"

"Well, I don't know. I wouldn't know how to start looking," Mick sighs.

Nikki determines that Mick actually wants to go forward with this prospect, but is playing it cool for whatever reason. "Well, that's why you need me. Detective Sixx at your service."

"You're a eager dick, aren't you?"

"Hey, no need to call me names," Nikki bristles. "I'm just trying to help."

"Hey moron, dick is slang for a detective. Maybe I should call you Dicki," Mick snickers.

"Maybe I should knee you in the dickie."

"Settle down. Why don't you come over, and we can discuss this further."

"OK. Be there in 10 minutes."

Nikki is kind of excited to be starting on this adventure. It will probably mean a brief trip back to L.A. at some point. He's going to let Tommy know where he's going and then fill him in later.

Nikki goes back into his bed, and puts clothes on. He goes over to Tommy's side of the bed and kneels down, gently shaking him awake.

"Hey Tommy," Nikki whispers. "I'm going over to the other apartment for a little bit."

Tommy stretches and picks his head up, blinking his eyes, "I want my morning sex, love."

"Then go back to sleep. When I get back alright? Love you," Nikki says, giving him a kiss on the lips.

Tommy flops his head back down, and buries his face in the pillows to go back to sleep.

Nikki leaves and gets to Mick's apartment, sitting down with him.

"Don't be loud. Vince is still in bed. I think he may have even called in an escort last night. Not sure if she's still there. I just don't want him to know what we're doing," Mick says.

"OK," Nikki says, taking a small notepad out of his pocket, licking his lips in anticipation of taking on his first case. "So, I need his full name?"

"Uh, I don't know. It's Rod Jones."

"Jones!? Really? C'mon, I need an easier name to fucking track."

"Well, it's not like I can do anything about that," Mick furrows his brow.

"OK then, so what's Rod short for?"

"Got me. Could be Rodrick, Rodham, Rodney. Could even be something like Robert."

"How the fuck do you not know that?!"

"Shhh, I told you to keep it low."

Nikki shakes his head, "Thomas Lee Bass. I know his whole fucking given name. How do you not know Rod's?"

"I don't know. Maybe because the band only lasted around a year. Maybe because we never got beyond playing clubs and bars, so there was no legal bullshit that needed to be signed and cataloged. Besides, what's so hard about Tommy's? Thomas is always the long name of Tommy or Tom. And you only know his middle name because he uses it for his last name now."

"Not necessarily. What about Tombo or Tombert?"

Mick rolls his eyes. "How many fucking Tomberts do you know!"

"Shhh, you're getting loud. You're going to wake up Sleepy Beauty, Mickbert."

"Fuck off, Nikki. Let's move on," Mick stews, crossing his arms.

"Alright. Where was the last known place that he lived?" Nikki asks, flipping the page in his notepad.

"L.A."

"Can you be any fucking broader?"

"I don't remember. Uh, one of the coastal towns. Manhattan Beach, maybe?"

"Maybe. That's great," Nikki says, sarcastically. "And how the hell do you not remember? This person fucking meant something to you, right?"

"I don't know. I just drive, and I'm somewhere. I don't need to know what it's called."

Nikki shakes his head and takes a deep breath, "So, have you ever looked him up in the phone book?"

"Yup, not there."

"How do you know? There's probably 500 "R Jones" in the damn white pages. Did you ever call any?"

"No, that's your job, Dick."

"Don't, Mick," Nikki warns. "So, what about your other band mates. Do you keep in touch with any of them?

"Not really. There were 5 of us and everybody got pissed at everyone for the most part. But, the rhythm guitarist was kind of cool about it. We stayed in touch for awhile. No hard feelings."

"And what was his fucking name, and don't you dare say Johnnie Smith or some generic shit like that."

"It was Mike Smith."

"You better be shitting me," Nikki says, tossing the notepad on the table.

"Heh heh. Gotcha," Mick sneers, putting his finger up.

"Come on, Mick. I don't have time for this shit. Tommy is waiting for me to come home."

"I told you not to tell me anything about you two."

"I didn't say what for. He's making me breakfast, dude. He's a good cook."

"Right, Nikki. What's on the menu flambe of cockroach?"

"No, because we don't have roaches here. It's Eggos," Nikki smirks.

"A true gourmet."

"OK. Back to the grind. What was the guitarist's name?"

"Strummer Pix."

Nikki starts cracking up. "Seriously?"

"What?!"

"I don't know. This just sounds like the lamest fucking band ever. What was the bassist's name, First Base?" Nikki jokes.

"No, Third Base. He could never clench the deal. Ugly motherfucker, but he could play the hell out of the bass."

"You're funny today," Nikki says, shaking his head. "How the fuck would Strummer be listed as in the phone book?"

"S-T-R-U-M--"

"I know how to spell, asshole. Given name?!"

"The hell should I know," Mick shrugs. "And for the last time, keep your damn voice down. If you wake up that blonde prick, I'm going to shove the Eggos up your ass."

"Don't threaten me with something that I might like."

"You're sick."

"I try my best. One last question. What instrument did Rod play?'

"Drums."

Nikki smiles wides, then shuts the notepad. "Thank you. You've been most unhelpful," Nikki says, tapping the pencil on the notepad.

"I try my best," Mick says, smirking. "Hey, Nikki. I don't know who you plan on calling or asking questions to, but you better not say anything or say why you're doing this."

"I won't. Just as you wouldn't with me, right?"

"Right. OK. Uh, thanks I guess. I don't know if you'll have much luck. But thanks for trying."

"OK. Talk later. I'm going home for breakfast," Nikki winks.

"And I'm going to go throw my breakfast up now. Get the fuck out of here," Mick says, getting up.

\-------------------------------

Nikki comes back to his bedroom, undresses, then nuzzles into Tommy on the bed, "I'm back."

"Good. I was getting restless," Tommy says, rolling over; still sleepy. "What were you doing?"

"Being a dick for Mick."

"What?"

"Never mind. I'll tell you later, Nikki says getting on top of Tommy.

\-------------------------------

After their morning love-making session, and breakfast of cold cereal, since Tommy ate all of the Eggos yesterday, Nikki figures out where to start with his detective work. He calls the Motley office and insists that one of the interns starts calling all of the R Jones in the greater L.A. area phone book, as well as all the other R names that Mick suggested, as well as some other possible longer names for Rod, with no explanation why. The directions are to call each listing and ask for Rod. If there's one there, mark the number down. If not, move on.

Then he called a friend, and asked him to poke around to see if anyone on the strip has ever heard of a Strummer Pix and if anything is known about him. Nikki feels like a true Sam Spade, ignoring the fact that he's not actually doing any of the work, with the exception of making two phone calls, which took all but 10 minutes, including some idle chat with his friend.

Three days later, Nikki finally gets a phone call from the office. The intern came up with 56 definite Rod Jones' in the greater L.A. area and several phone calls that went unanswered. Nikki instructed the intern to now call and ask if the Rods were ever a drummer in a local band. Again, no explanation. Nikki has yet to hear back from his friend tracking down the Strummer guy.

**Later that day~**

Mick strolls on over to Nikki's apartment, and comes in.

"So, any progress Nikki?" Mick asks, not seeing Tommy around.

"Yeah, I'm making progress. Narrowing things down," Nikki beams.

"Really? How narrowed?"

"Uh, well, um, just narrowed. I don't know. Don't question the genius at work."

"Have you been making a lot of long distance calls, Nikki?"

"Oh enough. I might ask if you could chip in for an Eggo waffle restock. Tommy inhales that shit. And I've been so busy with detective work, I haven't had time to shop. Mind getting some stuff for us?"

"Sure. I guess it's the least I can do. Gotta list?"

"Yeah, it's hanging on the fridge," Nikki says, pointing to it with the remote in his hand, as he's sprawled on the couch.

"This is a fucking long list."

"You try living with Tommy. Thanks Mick," Nikki says, throwing a wave up, remote still in hand, as a gesture of thanks.

"Sure. Be back in a bit."

\-----------------------------------

The following day, Nikki gets a call back from his friend, who was asking around about Strummer.

He tells him that the guitarist is still around, and while not in a band at the moment, he sometimes subs in for a couple local gigs. He goes by the name Strummer, but went back to his given last name, Peters. He also provided Nikki with a phone number to reach him. Nikki is pleased, and decides to call him today. Tomorrow is Monday, and he doesn't know what type of job this guy has. Furthermore, Motley is starting work in the studio tomorrow.

Nikki dials the number. It rings a few times, and a woman answers. He asks for Strummer, feeling stupid even just saying the name.

"Sure, can I tell him who's calling?"

Shit. Nikki isn't prepared to answer. Think quick. "Uh, it's about a band gig."

**A few seconds later, Nikki's subject is on the phone.**

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Strummer Peters," Nikki asks, having his notepad ready.

"Yes sir. Can I help you?"

Nikki suddenly feels nervous. Here's this famous, millionaire rock star on the phone with some Joe Local, would shit his pants if he finds out who's on the other end of the line, yet he can't formulate the words to ask anything sensible. A piece of the puzzle is before him and it just got real.

"Uh, yeah. You're a rhythm guitarist who used to go by the name Strummer Pix?"

"That was a long time ago. Who is this?"

"Uh, my name is uh, Nicholas London. I'm doing collective research about bands that played The Strip in the 70s.

"Oh cool. You remember us? We were really a top 40 band, but we did have two originals that people seemed to like. But I have a feeling that you're really trying to fish for information about Mick Mars. Am I right? You're not the first."

Nikki finds this humorous. "Yeah, OK. Maybe a bit, but I'm really interested in all of the band members. I was hoping you might be able to share with me."

"Sure, Mr. London. I'll play along. I'll tell you what we're all up to, you can pretend to write it down, then feel free to ask me about Mick. I know that's what you really want to know."

Nikki is getting annoyed. This guy doesn't believe his bullshit story, but also for the wrong reason.

"Can I have the names of the other band members, and if you know what they're up to?"

"OK, let's see. There was me, of course. I went by Strummer Pix back then."

"Kind of a cliched name for a guitarist, don't you think?"

"I know, I know. I had to drop my real first name. Strummer stuck with me, but I went back to my given surname. It sounded better."

Nikki is curious. "What was your first name?"

"Dude, I don't know what my parents were thinking. Uh, it was Harry. I got made fun of in school. Harry Peters. It had to change."

"You're shitting me?" Nikki giggles.

"Nope. Worst fucking name ever. Guess my stage name was kind of dumb too. But definitely not as bad as the one Mick Mars had back then."

"Really? What was it."

"Zorky Charlemagne," Strummer reveals.

Nikki has to put the receiver down. He can't control his laughter, which draws Tommy out of his room.

"Who you talking to, Nik?" Tommy asks.

Nikki puts his finger up to his lips, a tear rolling down his cheek from laughing.

"Are you still there, Mr. London?"

"Yes, sir. My apologies."

"Yeah, that was pretty bad, huh. Motley Crue would never have let someone in their band with that fucked up name."

"Probably not, dude," Nikki laughs.

"I couldn't stand it. I think most of us called him Zero for short."

"That's more like him, I suppose," Nikki replies, regaining his composure.

"Uh, what about the other band members?"

"Well, there was Sharkie Masters, Junkyard James, and Rod Jones; the only one with his given name. I think he liked his first name. He was kind of known for his generous offering. Know what I mean? Uh, like Tommy Lee from Motley Crue."

"Gotcha hard on that," Nikki says, grinning wide, staring at Tommy, who is looking back at him with a confused look on his face. "Rod? Hmm? Do you know what his full name was?"

"Nope. He was just Rod."

"Do you keep in touch with any of these former band members, or know what they're doing?"

"Well, unfortunately Junkyard passed away a number of years ago. Drugs, like heroin."

"Oh shit. Sorry."

"Eh, he was an asshole. Most bassists are."

Nikki furrows his brow. "What about the others?"

"Sharkie moved out of state, but Rod is around. Last saw him was about two years ago."

"Really? Where? In the area?"

"Yeah, he still plays in a band. Caught the band one night. It's OK. Nothing big. I still play around too, but more so as a hobby."

"What's Rod's band's name?"

"Uh, I couldn't tell you. However, I seem to remember it had the name Mars in it. Like Mission to Mars or something. Probably a nod to Mick Mars, I'm certain. That's all the rest of us can do, is ride on the threads of his coat tails. He was really talented, you know, even back then. I guess it doesn't surprise me that he made it big, but it's still so weird. I don't think any of us ever could have imagined such a thing happening to any of us. Just a pipe dream. I would sure like to catch up with him someday. Our band busted apart due to stupid bullshit and attitudes. Mick got married, and for whatever reason, this seemed to be the catalyst for the breakdown of the band. It was probably about the girl," Strummer sighs. "But, Zero and I still talked for a while, eventually falling out of touch."

"Well thanks. You've been really helpful."

"Wait. Don't you want to know anything about our music and the originals. Or more about Mick?"

Nikki really doesn't want to hear anymore, but to keep up his act, he asks a few more questions, not bothering to write any of it down. After another few minutes he hangs up.

"Who was that?' Tommy asks again.

"One of Mick's former band mates. Not only am I getting closer to finding Rod, I've got something to bust on Mick about," Nikki announces, gleefully.

"What?"

"Just wait for it. Later, baby. Was thinking about you while I was on the phone. I want you to show me what you have to offer," Nikki says, tossing the notebook aside, and getting up to walk over to Tommy for an embrace, followed by a deep kiss.

"What do you want, love?"

"Whatever you got," Nikki smiles. "Within reason!" he adds.

\-----------------------------

After our boys enjoyed some alone time, Nikki called his L.A. friend back up and asked him to find out if there are any bands in the area with the word Mars in the band name. His friend is prying and asks what this is all about. Nikki lies, and says that he's trying to track down an old band mate of his. Next he calls Mick to come over for a few minutes.

"T, I called Mick to come over for a few. I have some information to share with him," Nikki announces to Tommy, who's still in the bedroom.

"I thought you were going to wait to update him until you found the dude?"

"I am, but I can't wait for this part."

 **Mick let's himself in a few minutes later**.

"What's up Nikki, that you couldn't tell me on the phone?" Mick asks.

"I learned 3 things today that I wanted to share," Nikki says, flipping his notepad open. "Tom!!! Get your ass out here!"

"Oh come on. Tommy doesn't need to be part of this."

"Yes he does. And if you protest, I'm going to call Vince over too, and you will regret that."

Mick stands there, with his arms crossed, looking highly annoyed, as Tommy emerges from the bedroom. "What the fuck is it, Nikki?!" Mick snaps.

Nikki grins wides, holding his notepad, flipping pages. "OK, here we go. Number one, if your last name is Peters, don't name your kid Harry."

"What the fuck does that mean?!" Mick shrieks, while Tommy is snickering. "Can you fucking be real, and stop with this juvenile banter."

"I am being real. Just saying. Number two, this may shock you. I am not the only asshole junkie bassist to ever walk this earth."

"What does this have to do with me?" Mick demands, glaring hard.

"I'm getting there," Nikki smiles, flipping to another page. "And number 3. Tommy, I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Zorky Charlemagne."

"Fuck you!! Where did you get that information from," Mick screeches, lurching for Nikki's notepad; which Nikki easily puts out of reach from Mick by extending his arm all the way up.

Mick kicks Nikki in the shin. "You mothefucker! Give me that damn pad! Who the fuck told you that!"

"It's classified information at this point," Nikki laughs, still holding the notepad up high.

"What the fuck kind of name was that? Was that one of your stage names, Mick?" Tommy spits out, while laughing his ass off. "Hi there! I'm Zorky. Do you want to hear me play guitar? Mick, we would have thrown your ass out, if you showed up to audition with the fucking name!"

"Fuck both of you!!! I was on a bunch of hallucinogenic drugs at that time. Seemed appropriate!" Mick screeches, taking steps towards the door.

"Enjoy the rest of your day off, Mr. Charlemagne," Tommy blasts out, laughing.

Mick charges back in and sucker punches Tommy, which doesn't seem to faze him, other than holding his hand up to his jawline, already sore from laughing.

"You should calm the fuck down. At least I'm finding out some fucking names here, Mr. I-don't-know-jack-shit-about-anyone's-damn-names."

"You're an asshole, Nikki."

"I'd rather be an asshole than Zorky Charlemagne," Nikki cracks up.

"I don't give a shit about names!"

"Well, maybe if you did, I wouldn't have to be doing all of this fucking research," Nikki says, popping his eyebrows up.

"Yeah, right. You don't have to know every single fucking thing about someone you know, like a real name!"

"Did Rod know yours?"

"Well yes, because he hated my stupid stage name," Mick, actually laughs a smidge. "Tommy, tell me you actually know Nikki's full given name. He's got like a dozen middle names thrown in there.

"Franklin Carlton Serafino Feranna," Tommy states, like it's common knowledge.

Nikki stands there grinning.

"Fuck you, Tommy. And fuck you, Nikki. Are we done?"

"Yup, we're done. Wanna all get dinner, tonight?"

"No! Fuck off, and if you tell any of this to Vince, I swear I will be rippng all of your limbs off and setting them on fire!" Mick shrieks, slamming the door behind him.

"Shit, Nik. I don't think Zorky likes us anymore," Tommy snickers.

\----------------------

The next morning, the band starts work in the studio. Around lunchtime, Nikki is told that the Motley office is on the phone for him. He takes the call. It's the intern reporting that of all of the Rod Jones, 4 were musicians. One played the trumpet, one sang in a church choir, one was an elementary school music teacher, and one played drums for an all black jazz band. Also several initials calls from the 'R Jones' list were never answered or returned. Fuck. Nikki is not happy to hear that. He can only hope that either some others will call back, or his friend finds out something about the Mars band.

The following day, in the evening, Nikki's friend calls back, and says that he was able to track down a band by the name Mars Attacks, which is a cover band which plays mainly rock music, including Motley Crue covers. Not only that. They have a gig at a bar, near the strip, this Friday. Bingo. Just the news Nikki's been waiting for.

"TOMMYYYY!!! Nikki hollers, after hanging the phone up.

Tommy comes flying out of the bathroom, naked, trying to wrap a towel around his waist, "Oh my god! Are you alright! What happened!" Tommy shrieks.

"Dude! I got it. I found that motherfucker that Mick is looking for!"

"Seriously, dipshit! You fucking scared me. I thought you were calling for help."

"I would have screamed 'help' if I needed help, numskull. I'm so fucking stoked! Fuck! I'm going to have to book flights. Uh, Mick and I are going to have to leave the studio by midday on Friday. Hey, don't tell him yet," Nikki rambles on, frantically.

"OK, love. Settle down. You're being me."

"It must feel good to be you then. I am fucking stoked and excited! I'm like fucking Columbo."

"Nik, first, you don't solve murders, and second, you barely did shit to find this guy. Your grunts did all of the hard work."

"I made a few phone calls. I'm busy you know. I have to sacrifice my time to make these phone calls."

"Right. How many videos on MTV did you have to miss while playing detective?"

"Hey, stop being a fucking buzzkill. You should be proud of me," Nikki glares.

"I am, love. I'm sorry. You freaked me out before. That's all. Mick is lucky to have such a good friend," Tommy says, dropping his towel to kiss Nikki.

"Not as lucky as I am," Nikki says, kissing Tommy in return, hands on his bare ass. "Let's celebrate. Let me lock the door."

\---------------------------------

**Thursday night, after the studio.~**

"T-Bone, I just invited Mick over. I have to tell him tonight, so he can pack a bag."

"What if that guy isn't in the band anymore? Did you ever consider that?"

"Yeah. I guess it will be disappointing. Maybe the rest of the band would have info about him, if Mick wants it."

"Wish I could go with you guys," Tommy sighs.

Nikki comes over to Tommy on the couch, and puts his arm around him and his head on his shoulder. "Me too. I'll miss you. But, this is for Mick. He doesn't want everyone around, especially Vince. You can probably tell him after. I can call you, and let you know."

"What does Vince think you're leaving for then?"

"I'll just tell him that we're looking. I don't want to tell him that we found him."

"I'd come up with something more elaborate, but he has to cover if Emi calls. Oh, and I hate to ask. Can I tell him alone? He's going to be on edge with you here."

"Not fair," Tommy pouts.

"I'm sorry, T. I'll let you punish me later," Nikki swallows hard, kind of regretting he said that. He gets uncomfortable with some of Tommy's bedroom ideas.

"Really?" Tommy jumps up, not able to control his excitement. "Great fucking trade-off. Later!"

"Fuck, Tom. Easy! It's not free rein!" Nikki yells, as Tommy bounds off to his room.

"Punishment, Nikki. You've been very naughty, and I have to make you pay for it," Tommy says, popping his head back out the door, then slamming it shut again.

"Fuck," Nikki mumbles.

Mick shows up a minute later.

"Whatcha got, Dicki." Mick asks.

"Will you stop with that?" Nikki snaps.

"Only if you stop with the stupid name I used to have."

"OK. You got a deal.... Zero."

"How'd you find that out?"

"Talked to Strummer," Nikki smiles crooked.

"You don't say. And what's he have to say?" Mick says, sporting a grin.

"Not much important. But I need to tell you about a little cover band called Mars Attacks that's playing tomorrow night at a bar."

"Interesting name. Who are they?"

"You and I are going to find out. I think that they might have a drummer named, Rod."

"Heh, really? Still playing?"

"I think so. We're leaving the studio early tomorrow to fly home. Just you and me. I already told our producer that we have to leave, and I got our tickets. What do you think?"

"I think that I'm not going to sleep tonight," Mick smirks. "Uh, thanks, Nik."

"No problem, friend. I think maybe I should start a side business in detective work," Nikki muses.

Tommy comes barging out of his room, obviously listening in. "Mick, don't let him fucking fool you. He made a few phone calls, and other people did the grunt work," Tommy blares out, laughing his ass off.

Nikki glares at him. "Fuck you, Tommy. I think that I might have to renege my earlier statement to you. I think someone else needs some punishment bestowed!" Nikki growls, flashing his fists.

"Tommy, doesn't matter. I would have never done anything to do this for myself. Nikki made this happen, even if he is a fake dick," Mick laughs.

"Enough!" Nikki shrieks.

"Sorry, love. I just heard you gloating. You should just stick to music. I don't need you out and about solving mysteries. There's better stuff here to unravel."

"Oh my god. Shut the fuck up, Tommy. I'm going to puke right on your carpet. Fuck, I'm out of here."

"Hey, Mick. Um, I guess pack a small bag. And I didn't tell Vince yet. Just gonna tell him that we're going to look, OK?"

"OK. See you later."

"No you won't. Don't come knocking here tonight," Tommy hollers.

Mick shuts the door. Nikki furrows his brow at Tommy. "Why did you ruin my moment?"

"Chill. No harm done. Come on, don't keep that dick private anymore," Tommy says, grabbing hold of Nikki through his pants.

"Just letting you know that I might have to give you some form of punishment in return," Nikki reveals, locking lips with Tommy.

"Tell me more," Tommy says, leading Nikki to the bedroom.

\----------------------------

**Friday, on the plane to L.A.~**

"Are you nervous. Mick?" Nikki asks, as the plane begins to level out from it's ascending climb.

"More anxious, I suppose," Mick sighs.

"What the fuck is the difference?"

"Sissies are nervous. Refined people are anxious."

"Neither of which describe you. Refined my ass. When has Motley ever been refined?" Nikki says, purposely burping and blowing it in Mick's face.

"Fucking pig."

"That's more like it," Nikki grins, putting his chair back.

\---------------------------

**In L.A. at their hotel~**

"Seems a little strange to get a hotel here. Couldn't we have stayed at your house?" Mick asks.

"Nah, Karen is in and out, and someone is liable to spot me. We don't want you-know-who to catch wind that we're here," Nikki replies.

"Who? Emi?"

"Yes, stupid."

"You can say her name you know."

"I just didn't know how you're feeling about that."

"It's fine, Nikki. I love her. I'm not planning on doing anything tonight. I just want to talk and find resolution."

"That's the refined thing to do," Nikki says, while looking in the mirror to fix his hair. "Let's get room service, and kick back for the next few hours."

"I'm not hungry," Mick states.

"Nerves."

"Fuck the nerves! I ate on the fucking plane while you were sleeping. I ate yours too. Well, at least the piece of cake."

"Fuck you for eating my cake. You owe me a piece."

"You were out cold, idiot!"

"Overeating because of nerves."

"Nikki, shut the fuck up! I am going to beat the ever-living shit out of you next time you mention the word nerves."

"Heh, OK Mick. You're perfectly fine, aren't you? Now hand me the damn menu."

\----------------------

**8:45pm at the bar ~**

Nikki and Mick are hidden, as usual, behind sunglasses and hats. They find a table with a good view of the tiny, one-step stage.

"It will only be a few minutes before they come out for tuning and sound check," Nikki mentions.

"Shut up."

"44."

"What? What's that mean?"

"The number of times you've told me to shut up since we've been here. Pretty much every time I've opened my mouth."

"Sounds about right. And by the way, shut the fuck up."

"Nerves," Nikki smirks.

"I'm going to rip your damn vocal chords out, bass player, as you can't seem to comprehend what 'shut up' means!"

Nikki shrugs.

"Look! They're coming!" Nikki says, as Mick is tapping ashes in the cigarette tray.

Mick snaps his head up towards the stage, pulling his hand back, and knocks a glass of water over, which is now dribbling over the edge of the table.

Nikki starts laughing. The band wasn't there.

"I swear to god, you are fucking dead when we leave here. I AM going to kill you," Mick says, trying to sop up the water with the couple of napkins on the table. Just at that moment, a waitress comes by, standing before them, and drops napkins on the table and asks if she can get them anything else. Nikki asks for a soda, as Mick continues to sop up the water with the fresh napkins. When the waitress steps away, and Mick slops the messy pile of wet napkins on the table, he looks up and suddenly he's there.... on the stage. There's Rod.

"Mick just stares.

"Cut his hair short," Nikki observes.

"Shut up, Nikki. And how would you know?" Mick says, not breaking his gaze.

"Because nobody in a 70s rock band had short, fucking hair. Probably had a trash stash too."

Mick just glares at Nikki, then turns back to the stage.

The band continues sound check, and finally the singer announces who they are, and then they fire up.

By the 2nd song, Nikki asks, "What are you thinking?"

"They're OK," Mick replies.

"Not about the music, dumbass."

"I don't know, Nik. It's weird. That's all."

Nikki squeezes Mick's shoulder, then leans back in his chair.

After another few songs, Nikki asks, "What do you think of his drumming?"

"Well, he's no Tommy Lee," Mick reveals.

"This world only has room for one," Nikki says, reveling in Mick's reply.

The next song is a Motley cover, "Girls Girls Girls." There's a couple of woots from the crowd, as the band hits the opening riff. Mick is tapping his fingers on the table. Nikki is wondering whether he wants them to do well with the song, or if he's appalled. Maybe he's flattered?

They finish the song, "What'd you think?" Nikki asks.

"Not bad I guess."

"I don't think they quite got the guitar. You did some sort of reverse scale there."

"What? The guitar?"

"Yeah, you're fucking parts, dude."

"Oh, uh. Yeah. I don't know."

Nikki realizes that Mick wasn't even listening to the guitar. For the first time ever, the drums seem to be more of an interest to him. The singer mentions that they have one more song, and then they're going to take a 20 minute break. The band finishes the song, and then exits the stage, taking a seat at a small reserved table within view.

"What are you going to do, Mick?" Nikki asks.

"I don't know. I think I should wait until they're finished for the night."

Mick and Nikki see some women join the table. One woman sits on Rod's lap. He lights her cigarette for her.

Nikki tilts his head, looking at Mick.

"Yeah, after," Mick says, lighting his own cigarette. "Would really like a drink right about now. Fuck."

"You don't need it, buddy. You're Mick Fuckin' Mars. He's gonna shit his pants when he sees you."

"I don't need that visual, Nikki."

"Relax, motherfucker. It's just a saying."

"OK," Mick says, staring out, watching Rod's moves and mannerisms.

\-------------------------

The band reconvenes, and finishes the set with 6 more songs. The singer thanks everyone for coming out, then they start breaking down. Mick knows that it takes the longest to break down the drum kit. He'll be up there for a while. Rod hops on and off the stage a few times, with drums in hand, most likely bringing them out to a van or truck. The woman who was sitting on his lap is helping too.

A few minutes later, Mick sees him kiss her and then directs her to go sit down. She and another band member slide into a large corner booth towards the back of the bar. Another woman and 1 more band member head back to the table. The stage is nearly cleared. The final band member, other than Rod says, "Lock 'er up when you get that loaded. We'll order your usual." Rod nods.

"Now's your chance," Nikki says, slapping Mick on the back.

Mick takes a deep breath, "Yeah. Um, can you fucking go somewhere? I don't need you watching."

"No problem. I'll let the table know that Rod might be a little longer," Nikki smirks. "Hey, I hope you get what you need from this."

"Thanks," Mick says, taking a step towards the stage.

Nikki goes to the back booth, and boldly slides in with the band and their ladies.

"Hey man, this is a private party," one of the band members says.

"I know. I'm just letting you know that your pal Rod might be a little late to the party," Nikki says.

"And you are?" another one asks.

"Your Motley cover wasn't bad," Nikki states, ignoring the icy reception.

"That's our specialty. Our drummer alleges he once played in a band with Mick Mars," the bassist reveals.

Fuck him," the singer says, throwing a hand towards Nikki, then facing him. "Dude, the bar is that-a-way," he says, pointing towards it.

"I don't drink anymore," Nikki replies.

"Listen, mister. You're sitting in my boyfriend's seat," the woman, who was on his lap earlier says, with a throaty smoker's voice.

"I told you, he's going to be late to the party. I'm filling in."

"Hey, I'm glad you're a fan, and we're not looking to start anything, but you need to leave our table. I'll call the manager over if I need to," the singer says, firmly.

"Oh, well that's too bad. I guess I'll find somewhere else to sit," Nikki says, standing up, then removing his sunglasses.

Half of the table falls silent, and the other half starts gasping and freaking out. Nikki shushes them, putting the glasses back on, asking them not to blow his cover, sitting back down. He's going to explain that Mick is here to say hello to his old friend, but without the real intent exposed.

All the while, Mick meanders towards the door that Rod just went through with the last piece of the drum kit in tow. Mick goes out the door, and sees Rod jamming the drum into a van. He jumps off the back of the van, and slams the doors shut, locking it. When he spins around, he suddenly face to face with a man in sunglasses.

"Excuse me," Rod says, attempting to step around Mick.

Mick removes his sunglasses, "Hi Rod."

Rod is stopped in his tracks, knowing those piercing, blue eyes all too well. "Zero?"

"It's Mick."

"Holy shit, "Rod says, sounding like he's hyperventilating. "What brings you here?"

"Heard you were playing. Just thought I'd check it out."

"Uh, I can't.... Is this really happening? I can't believe this. Holy shit. You're..." Rod stammers, rendering himself speechless.

"I like your band's name," Mick says, sensing Rod's shock.

"Heh, yeah. Uh, it was my idea. You know. I obviously know who you are, and um, well..."

"Listen, you wanna sit somewhere?"

"Uh, yeah. Um, my band and um, my girlfriend are, like waiting for me... "

"It's OK. My friend, Nikki, is letting them know."

"What? Nikki? Oh my god. This has got to be some sort of dream. Are you really here? Is this some sort of joke," Rod blabs on.

"Rod, it's not a joke. Nikki helped me find you. He and I came down here to see you."

"Are you and Nikki---"

  
"Oh god, no. I'm dating our back-up singer, Emi. But he knows, OK? We're all close. Stuff comes up sometimes, and we share things with each other."

"Oh. OK. Um, wow. I'm still in disbelief. Look, I'm shaking," Rod says, holding his arm up.

"Come on. I got a rental car here. We can sit in it and talk," Mick suggests.

"Rental? Don't you still live in L.A.?"

"Yeah, I do. Come on. I'll tell you about it in the car."

Mick tells Rod about Vancouver and their record. They share some things with each other about their lives and their bands. They talk about that stuff for over a half hour, avoiding the true reason for Mick's visit. They get on the topic of their old band, and talk about it, and the guys in it, for a few minutes more.

"Those were wild fucking times, weren't they," Rod says, taking a deep breath.

"What happened?"

"To what?" Rod asks.

"Come on, Rod. You know what I mean. To us."

Rod sits silent for a long-ass minute, lighting a cigarette and taking a few drags before saying, "I'm sorry. I just couldn't handle you being attached to someone else. I just couldn't."

"I thought we were stronger than that. I had to do the right thing, man," Mick shares.

"We were. But I was also dying inside. I just couldn't handle it. I don't know how else to get that across."

"Well, I guess you missed out then. I was fucked for a long time..... Things are good now, though. I love Emi. Love what I do. Trust my bandmates with my life. They're my brothers," Mick says, in a tone, to intentionally flaunt what he has now.

"But you still came to find me," Rod says, giving it right back to him.

"Yeah, I did, didn't I," Mick shrugs.

"Why? To show off, or for something else?"

"Yeah, I want to fucking show off! I fucking made it, and I made it big without you! I have everything I ever wanted. Everything! I have the fame and the money. The platinum albums. I have beautiful girl and a fucking mansion to live in with her. 3 kids. I have the 3 best fucking friends that anyone could ask for. A band that has my fucking back! I got fucking everything, Rod!"

  
"That's great, Mick. It still blows my fucking mind. So, why'd you really come here? Seems like you might have better things to do than to rub your success in my face."

"You broke my damn heart, and I just wanted to let you know that," Mick snaps.

"12 years is a long time to bear a grudge."

"It's not a fucking grudge."

"Then what?"

"I don't know. Maybe the hurt feelings never left me."

"If it makes you feel any better, I fucked up, Zero."

Mick looks up at his old lover, ignoring the name slip. "Hmm," is all Mick can say.

"Mick, why do you think I still play? Why do you think I do your fucking covers, and put Mars in the band name. You don't easily forget a true love. I fucked up, OK?"

Mick reaches for Rod's jaw, and pulls him in for a kiss. Rod complies.

Mick breaks the kiss. "That's why I came down here. I needed to hear that," Mick says, tearing up.

Rod nods his head, "I am sorry. I hope that you'll forgive me someday," he says softly, taking Mick's hand.

"I do. And I'm sorry for gloating. Life is great Rod. I wouldn't change it for anything. I just wonder sometimes how much better it would have been with you."

"Damn, Zero. I guess we'll never know what could have been, and what wouldn't have been. You maybe wouldn't have been in Motley Crue."

"I'm aware of that. But, it still would have been a good life. Thanks," Mick says, squeezing Rod's hand. "I got what I needed, and what I wanted."

"Yeah. Thanks for coming. I did too. Um, listen, my girl is in there, and---"

"I know. I told you I got what I needed. Let's go in. Introduce me to her. Nikki hasn't been thrown out yet, so I guess that's a good sign. He's a handful."

"Introduce me. And I'll introduce you to my guys. We've been together almost 4 years now. We're pretty tight too, you know," Rod says, smiling. "Hey, Mick? One more for the road?"

"You don't have to twist my arm," Mick says, leaning in for one more kiss.

When they break apart, Mick tells Rod that they'll be up in Vancouver for quite awhile, but shares his phone number for when he returns. Rod accepts it.

"The couple" walks back into the bar. Mick throws his sunglasses back on until reaching the table. Introductions are made, and the group closes the bar out. They say goodbye. Rod says he'll call sometimes down the road.

\----------------------------------

The hotel is only a few minutes away. Nikki waits until they're at the hotel to ask Mick about his night. They go in and get to their room.

"So, are you OK?" Nikki asks.

"Yeah. I'm good. Really good."

"Did you find your resolution?"

"Yeah, I did."

"So was it worth it? Please tell me yes. You know that I hate socializing unless I'm drunk or high. That was fucking hard for me tonight. All those people. But well, it was for you."

"Nikki, it was a perfect night."

"Are you going to see each other again?"

"I don't know. I gave him my number. I don't know if he'll call, and it's OK. He was uncomfortable, so I don't know. I guess my phone number was like a peace offering, but the conflict was already settled. I feel 100% better, and free. Free to just live the life I love because I know I was loved."

Nikki smiles and reaches out for an embrace, "You're going to make this big dummy cry. Glad I could be here with you. I get it."

"Thanks, Nik. I truly have the best friends. I like exactly where I am now in life."

"OK, now you're scaring me," Nikki says, breaking the hug. "The Mick I know doesn't say nice things to his friends. Well, except the time when I almost died."

"You're pretty observant. You're catching on."

"What's that mean? You're being nice to me now."

"Have you forgotten already. I told you earlier that I was going to kill you tonight," Mick smirks. "Better sleep with one eye open."

"You'll miss me too much. Who brought you here tonight to find peace in your life? Who are you going to talk to once I'm gone, Vince? Who's gonna push the album forward? And you know what, you'll probably kill Tommy at the same time. He'll die from heartbreak. You're not going to have a fucking band. You're going to wind up in jail, and only I would have visited your crusty, old ass. Oh, but wait, I won't be able to because I'll be dead. See, it's not gonna work out for you. I would suggest--"

"You know what I'm going to suggest?" Mick says, interrupting.

"What? That I--"

"To shut the fuck up!"

"Well, shit, Mick. You definitely hit 50 times by now."

"I swear, I'm going to follow through with tearing out your voice box. Stop counting shit like that and shut up, you stupid fuck!"

"I love you too, Mick," Nikki cracks a smile.

"Fine. I love ya also. Now, go to bed and shut the fuck up, you annoying asshole! Good night!"

"Glad to see you're back to normal. I guess my life has been spared since you're being cranky again," Nikki says, getting himself ready for bed. Before he goes into the bathroom, he comes behind Mick and whispers, "By the way, that was 51."

Nikki runs off to the bathroom, slamming the door. Mick charges after him, "That's it motherfucker! You better find a way to make yourself comfortable in there for the night! I would advise against coming out! Fuck you!"

~Mick obviously didn't kill Nikki that night. Mick settled down, and Nikki actually shut up when he eventually fell asleep. Mick drifted off to sleep that night thinking about the day. He loved Rod, but he got what he needed from tonight to close the chapter; appreciating now, everything he has in his Motley family, respecting what two of them have together, and ready to move forward with this band of misfits, not wishing for it to be any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story. Find me on Wattpad under the user name Kajomon.


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